


The Thrill of it All

by tattooedsappho



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-05
Updated: 2007-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:45:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedsappho/pseuds/tattooedsappho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Her body was mechanical, taking no pleasure from her actions; she simply used it to manipulate the man beneath her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thrill of it All

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic challenge for "Hogwarts Elite" (LJ). We needed to use three lines from one of two songs in the fic. I chose Sympathy for the Devil

She pressed her lips roughly against his, caring not for emotion or passion but simply for the thrill of dominance. Of exerting her will upon his. Oh, she might have idolized him at some point long ago but these days her sight was set on someone with a much higher status in society. Bartemius was simply a way to quench her thirst, a body that would respond to hers, a means to an end. He had no way of knowing this; he thought she was smitten with him. The way he had been strutting around the office lately sickened her. She let him have his fantasies though; they kept him in line, made it easier to manipulate him.

The first time she brought him back to a room at The Leaky Cauldron he had his moment of doubt and pain, her teeth drawing blood as she bit into the tender flesh of his shoulder. But a little dirty talk went a long way and soon she had him so turned on he didn't care what she did to him. After a while their rendezvous became a monthly and then a weekly habit, and soon she was able to turn his fumbled attempts at love making into something much more…satisfactory.

Pushing him down, she spelled away his clothes and magically bound his hands to the bedposts. Smiling evilly, she began to strip; teasing him mercilessly as she slowly removed her clothing piece by piece. By the time she was done, he was squirming with the need for some sort of contact. She leaned down and let her lips dance above him, before trailing her fingers up from his toes to his chest. He shuddered as she purposefully avoided the one spot he desperately wanted to feel her.

"Tell me, baby, what's my name?" she whispered in his ear.

"Please…"

"What's my name?!" she said more forcefully. "You know what happens if you don't answer me."

"D...Delores!"

"That's better," she said as she slid on top of him and let her mind wander as her body played. Her body was mechanical, taking no pleasure from her actions; she simply used it to manipulate the man beneath her. Up and down, a thrust here, a moan there. She had learned exactly what to do in order to get this part over with the fastest and programmed her body through repetition. At this point she didn't even need to think about what she was doing.

'When I saw it was time for a change I didn't think this would be the change I was going for. Although, this definitely gives me power over him and power is what I wanted. Funny how things work out. I wonder wh…' her thoughts were interrupted by the climax of the man beneath her.

She leaned forward and ran her tongue from his navel to his sternum, tasting the foul saltiness of his cold sweat. His moustache twitched as her hair brushed against his face and he fought to hold back a chuckle, knowing how it would displease her. Summoning a black quill she propped herself up on one elbow and began to trace intricate patterns on the pale, scarred skin of his chest. After a few moments she paused, raising her eyes and studying him.

Eyes closed, lips slightly parted and breathing in a manner that betrayed how hard he was struggling to keep it even – it was obvious who was in charge here. Smirking to herself she dropped the quill to the floor and whispered a spell under her breath.

"Ooo, who!" He yelled, jerking on the bed as the patterns on his chest were suddenly carved into his flesh, his blood trickling in thin tracks down the sides of his abdomen toward the mattress.

"I tell you one time, you're to blame," she whispered. "You're the reason I do this, you make me feel so wild." She closed her eyes and imagined Cornelius Fudge beneath her as her fingers drew simple patterns in the blood on Bartemius's chest.


End file.
